Press and Interviews

Frank Worrall talks to Marc Riley about life after The Fall.

At the time many dubbed him Lucifer. Bristling with melodrama, and not a little wit, they sneered that he had fallen from God's right hand. He would, they laughed, be banished into obscurity.

Now it's looking like the cynics will have to eat humble pie. Although he's hardly got off to a world-shattering start, Marc Riley is finding his feet steadily and is ever growing in confidence.

His track record since falling out with Mark E is not to be scoffed at. Three singles, a four-track EP and an album aren't bad going. And though not all his material is top-flight a lot of it is stamped with promising potential.

Funnily enough, Marc Riley reminds me of a slightly younger Mark Smith when we meet up. He shares that inherent cynicism, that endearing commonsense and that wonderful inability to prevent himself from shooting his mouth off.

'For a while now he's been taking himself too seriously', Marc raps when we decide to get the inevitable Smith bashing out of the way quickly.

'He's started believing his own press releases and what people are telling him about himself. Before he used to laugh it off but now he really thinks he's Lenny Bruce! It's totally out of order'.

Rumour had it that Riley had been sacked unceremoniously by Smith. He says it wasn't so. Apparently friction had been building for a few months. Riley and Smith agreed The Fall 'were going nowhere' and Riley agreed to leave.

'I was pushed', he will concede. 'But I had parachute. I'd been writing songs on my own for a while and I wanted to release them'.

Marc wipes a bead of sweat off his brow, sips at his Pils in the small Manchester pub we're chatting in and smiles. I pat myself on the back for acting as a priest to his exorcism and attempt to draw out the final demons.

He responds feverishly. 'I'm not into what The Fall are doing at the moment', he decides. 'They sound like the Raincoats!'

'And I don't give a hoot what Mark says about me. But if he does anything I don't like, you know, I'd punch him!'

The smile appears again. It grows larger when we eventually start to talk about Marc and his band, The Creepers. Immediately, he stressed, they're a unit, not just him and a backing band.

'The only thing that anybody's said so far that's cheesed me off is that we're makeshift', he bellows. 'No way! I don't mind people saying we're crap but a lot of work has been put in by us as a group'.

Currently Marc is busy encouraging The Creepers - bassist Pete Keogh, guitarist Paul Fletcher and drummer Eddie Fenn - to cement the corporate identity further by contributing songs. On the other hand, he is quick to point out he's 'dead proud' of writing all the songs himself!

Marc hardly left The Fall with a silver spoon in his mouth. Finding a record label was like finding someone daft enough to want to manage Spurs.

'Cherry Red wouldn't sign us because they thought we were working class yobbos and Northern bigmouths' he laughs.

'But Rough Trade were worse. They listened to a tape and said the drumming was weak. They asked if it was me. 'No! I told them. 'I'm a guitarist - it's Paul Hanley of The Fall!' Their faces went white over when they found out it was such a top drummer!'

At the end of the day Marc took up an offer from a close friend, Jim, to get their own label, In-Tape, off the ground. So far all his records have come out on it and he's happy about it.

Jim runs the label with the help of an enterprise grant and Marc's also hoping to cash in on the grants system by getting one for being a musician. Such is the life of the modern day pop artist - not that Marc would consider his work to be pop-based, mind you.

'I term what we do rock 'n' roll', he says, shrugging his shoulder. 'But people thing that means you're a teddy boy - some kind of parody.

'Yet to me The Fall and the Birthday party are rock 'n' roll', so I don't care if people say I'm a relic. My definition means the music is quite hard'.

Lyrically, Riley is as cynical and cutting as you'd expect from someone who was with The Fall for so long. His targets are 'fanatical groups' who spend their time wasting time.

'They're just observations on different people' he explains. 'They're not vitally important - I'm just pointing things out.

'I could write political songs but that'd be naïve. In a year I might turn around and totally disown such songs'.

Curious chap, this Riley. He gets off on writing about things he doesn't like! Isn't he existing in a rather depressing tunnel vision?

'Well, I probably am a cynic', he admits. 'I know it's not very healthy but I can't get any enjoyment out of writing about things I like!'

'But the songs are funny if you look beneath the surface. I mean the stuff I like to listen to is hilarious - like the Velvet Underground!'

I gulp down the remaining half pint of my lager, wondering why I never laugh at the VU's dirges. 'I hate my voice actually!' Marc blurts out before I can finish it off. 'I think it sounds like a Northern voice talking!'

Ah, I chip in, you're obviously got a Mark Smith-style hang up about the North.

'No! I haven't!' he pleads. 'But it is true about the dividing line between North and South. Petty hatreds are growing all the time.

'But the parody, flat cap thing is just the image created by people like Marc. You don't have to be like that'.

Talking about image, won't your utter lack of one prove a stumbling block in these unholy times of Wham! and Howard Jones?

'So far it's been our main hindrance', he says in a disillusioned tone. 'People say The Fall didn't have an image but they did by the fact they made a lot of not having one!

'But we're not interested in any aspect of it. Trouble is, if you're not in Specimen or Alien Sex Fiend and that sort of clique people think you're a bit straight-faced'.

True to their rather off-beat style, Marc and The Creepers have just completed their first album, 'Grossout ', after just 17 hours in the studio, at a cost of £80.

'But it's bloody great!' Marc enthuses. 'There's absolutely no continuity about it! The first side could have been done by five different groups!'

We both fall back laughing and a group of teenage girls, sitting nearby are attracted by the noise and the sight of the tape recorder.

'Is he him out of New Order?' one of them asks, prodding a finger towards a bewildered Marc.

'Actually that's a common mix-up', Marc sighs. 'Hook's a good bloke and so's Gretton but that singer's an arse. Once of the biggest arseholes I've ever met!

'When we went to Greece with The Fall, the Bunnymen and New Order followed us. Ian McCulloch's great - he used to be a roadie for The Fall'.

'But New Order's singer was moaning all the way. He was so really depressed'.

The girl continues to stare at Marc's flushed face, still convinced he's a member of New Order. There's time for a couple more questions before she decides to interrupt for good and chat Marc up.

What does making music mean to you, Marc? What's your ultimate aim?

'Well the best thing The Fall had was the power', he says proudly. 'That's what I aim to get. To get people coming to me'.

(Melody Maker, 19th May 1984)